


go and bury your demons

by welcometosideb



Series: Playlist [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: (almost) suicide attempt, A lot of them - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Andrew Minyard Has Feelings, Andrew is in a bad place, Angst, F/F, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, POV Andrew Minyard, POV Neil Josten, Suicidal Thoughts, They meet after college, maybe eventual smut I don't know, they're both dealing with traumas, yeah it was inspired by a league of legends song sue me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/welcometosideb/pseuds/welcometosideb
Summary: Andrew took a deep breath placing all the weight of his own body on one leg, preparing himself mentally, getting ready to jump.And that, he remembered clearly, was the moment he heard the voice.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Katelyn/ Aaron Minyard (Past Relationship), Kevaaron brief future mentions, Kevin Day/Thea Muldani (Past Relationship), Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose
Series: Playlist [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922962
Comments: 25
Kudos: 69





	1. what are you willing to lose?

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be a short one-shot but I already have like sixteen pages and I don't know where I'm going with or if I should finish it, so I'm posting so you guys can tell me if it's worth it, and I'm not someone to plead comments but, please I'm needing it.  
> So have some unbetaed bullshit my mind comes with when I'm upset 
> 
> Trigger Warning: PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, Depressed Episode, Suicide Thoughts, Panick Atacks, Past Abuse and Violence (mentioned), mentions of blood, if you see something else that I forgot to warn please tell me.
> 
> Also, I've based Andrew's bipolar disorder on a roommate I had and how she reacted to her episodes, that doesn't mean I wrote it perfectly or anything so if it's wrong or offend or hurt someone in some way please tell me and I'll delete it immediately
> 
> english isn't my first language, feel free to point out any mistakes and I hope it makes you guys feel something at least because that's why I write when I'm sad.

It's your reflection looking back to pull you down

So are you gonna die today or make it out alive?

You gotta conquer the monster in your head

and then you'll fly

— Phoenix

It was freezing on the roof, Andrew’s heart was beating like a drum inside his chest, he was so close to the edge that any sudden movement could make his feet slip in the snow that covered the floor under his feet and he would fall, but he couldn’t step back because he wanted to feel it, he wanted to feel the frenzy and the fear, the cold, the snowflakes falling on his eyelashes and hair.

He considered himself a brave man, but right now he couldn’t find in himself the courage to do what he came for — jump.

Andrew was used to apathy, to feel nothing, to be nothing.

His best friend from college didn’t need him anymore since his abuser was arrested for being a danger to society, his brother turned his back at him as soon as their deal ended, his cousin had his own life in Germany with the perfect husband, every single one of them moved on without Andrew, and he didn’t actually care — they were his family, and his family was everything, if they were happier without him, so he would be kind enough to stay away.

Andrew was a smart man, he knew everything he touched was fated to rotten, everything he touched was fated to break, and his family was lucky to be able to go ahead and build their own lives as far away as possible from such a destructive force like Andrew.

He wasn’t pitying himself, life never gave him anything good and it wasn’t about to start being nice to him just because he wasn’t getting any younger. He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t angry, he didn’t feel anything, he hadn’t felt anything in years, so many years he couldn’t even remember how was the sensation of something as stupid as _feeling_ — even if he had an eidetic memory.

The sky was grey, he realized when he raised his eyes, and the floor was covered in white, it was a beautiful day if you were into this kind of shit — Andrew wasn’t.

But it was, anyway, a good way to leave everything behind, not because he wanted to numb his pain forever, — he was used to pain, it was the only real and loyal friend he had — but because he had no reason to stay, he had nothing to live for.

He wasn't suicidal, far from it, but sometimes the memories, his own thoughts were too much, too much weight for someone to carry without forgetting any part of it, and he needed to get close enough to cross the line to breathe again.

Maybe part of it was his fault for letting his medications end in one of his worst depressive phases in years, but it was nothing he wasn't used to.

Andrew was never afraid of what would happen if, one day, he actually crossed the line.

The annoying noise warning a new message on his cell phone took him out of his thinking blizzard; it was Aaron and his annual ‘ _happy birthday.’_ Andrew answered with an _‘I’m still older than you’_ and turned off his phone, wondering if Aaron had already received the gift he had sent weeks ago, thinking if Aaron would still send him happy birthday messages for the next years, if he would care enough to keep this one promise.

“I don’t care if you hate me like you hate everything else,” Aaron said before leaving him behind, “but every year, no matter what happens, I’ll send you a message on our birthday to make you remember you have a brother who cares.”

 _You didn’t care enough to stay,_ Andrew thought but didn’t say it, because saying something like that meant he cared, and he really didn’t.

Why would someone stay for him anyway? 

Cassie tried to stay, years and years ago, when Andrew still believed good things could happen to people like him, he thought that if he stayed quiet, if he just let it happen in silence, Drake would get tired at some point, _he_ would go away and Andrew would have Cassie to himself, he would be happy — but Andrew couldn’t have nice things, could he?

And against everything he believed and said to himself, despite everything that happened and all that he went through, he gave himself the right to trust again, to accept someone’s open arms and show every dirty and destroyed piece of him, she was his therapist, after all, it was safe.

But it wasn’t, it wasn’t because he started, no matter how hard he tried not to, to see her as the mother he never had; Bee was sweet and kind, she had the worst singing voice and the most amazing laugh.

Cancer wasn’t a pretty thing, it took away her laugh first, and then her awful singing voice because she wasn’t strong enough to sing, until it took her away last month — he hadn’t smoked since then.

Andrew took a deep breath placing all the weight of his own body on one leg, preparing himself mentally, getting ready to jump.

And that, he remembered clearly, was the moment he heard the voice.

* * *

Neil hated moving.

He already did it so much in his life he saw no use in taking things out of their boxes once he was settled, he also didn’t see a reason to buy expensive decorations and buy furniture he would never use. He had a couch, a bed, a closet and it was more than enough even though Dan, Matt, and Allison stared at him as if he was insane — he kind of was, but not in the way they thought.

So, when Browning, his Witness Protection agent, said the area was calm and good and he would probably be able to finally settle down, he was as relieved as he was scared.

Since his mother died eight years ago, when he was seventeen, he was used to running away, he couldn’t trust his own shadow, couldn’t stay anywhere, couldn't settle down, but his father caught him anyway, and, despite surviving the encounter, he never had a full night's sleep again.

Waking up in the middle of the night screaming because of nightmares — nightmares with his mother’s dead eyes, his father’s laugh, blood dripping from his hair and fingers, his own blood, his mother’s blood, sometimes he saw his father killing her, sometimes he was the one holding the knife — was his new normal; sometimes he woke up crying, he couldn’t sleep without a long-sleeved shirt because his scars felt so unfamiliar at night, like he wasn’t in his own body, like he didn’t belong to himself, it was terrifying.

Nathan and Mary were dead now, and, sometimes, between the screams and the tears, and the blood on the marks his fingernails left on the palm of his hands, he laughed too.

 _I outlived them,_ he thought, because he did, he outlived the murderous father who cut him and punished him every day for the sin of being his son, and the mother who beat him for the sin of being a child who did not understand what the mother never tried to explain.

This was one of the reasons why, despite the insistence of his friends, Neil never slept in their house or allowed them to sleep in his; Matt, Dan, and Ally were amazing, they basically adopted him in college, but they would never understand who he really was, they saw him just as an innocent victim, he couldn’t imagine how they would react if they could see the huge grin that appeared on Neil's face when he remembered watching his father's death, if they knew he kept a pack of cigarettes with him all the time because the smoke remembered him the day he buried his mother on a beach in California — how sometimes he missed her and felt so sad he couldn’t breathe, but sometimes he felt so free and relieved because she was dead and could never lay a hand on him again.

More than once he heard Allison muttering ‘poor boy’ under her breath because he flinched seeing his reflection on the mirror, she thought he was scared because he remembered his father; Dan told him, in tears, that this was his own face and he should be proud because he survived.

He was proud of being alive, but not proud of how he got this far.

When he saw himself in the mirror, he wasn't scared by the image of his father, he was scared by himself because he knew he was able to show the same smile, the same cold eyes, because there was so much blood on his hands as on the hands of his father — blood of people who tried to help them and became collateral damage, the blood of people he killed because they tried to kill him, the blood of people he killed by order of his father, blood of people he killed accidentally during the paranoia and the rush of running away.

In the end, what was the difference between them if Neil was as capable of killing as Nathan was and — what scared him most — sometimes even enjoyed it?

His friends could never understand that, they saw him as a project, someone they could fix with love and opportunity, and Neil loved them so much, he loved how they never called him Nathaniel, how they never asked what he was planning to do with the valuable heritage that his father left — he had no idea, it was dirty money, and sometimes he needed to use it but no one needed _this much_ — they never asked why he refused to take his shirt off or go to the beach with them, they were adorable, but you can’t fix something if you don’t know where it’s broken, you can’t fix what you can’t see, and they didn’t really see Neil.

Ironically, it was Allison's Christian girlfriend, Renee, who had an easy smile and a hair dyed with pastel colors, who looked him in the eye and said:

"There's darkness consuming you too."

If she was someone else, he would be scared, but he saw recognition in her eyes, like she wasn't looking at him but seeing her reflection on the mirror.

"There's darkness in everyone," Neil said back, because he felt like it, and she laughed.

"Yes, there is. But not everyone is like us, we have so much darkness, but we ignore it's calling and try to be better, even though our past will never leave us. I know how much pain is hidden behind apathy," Renee said, as if she was thinking about someone else, "We're bigger than that, Neil. We're bigger than the lives we've destroyed."

"How do you do it?" Neil heard his own voice, but somehow it didn't sound like him.

"I found out that my faith keeps my demons at bay, now I just try to be better every day."

Neil scoffed.

"I don't think I have anything close to faith."

"Well, then find something else." 

Her words echoed in Neil's head for weeks, at first he was furious with Renee, it seemed so easy to her, but then he remembered how his mother used to sing to him before they ran away.

He remembered how he was forbidden from doing any sound, especially singing, during his time on the run, and how his mother asked him to sing for her one last time before she died.

"You have the most beautiful voice," she had said, "I hope that, someday, someone else can hear it too."

Back then it was impossible, living on the run meant being invisible, he couldn't sing, so this would die with her, but now he was free, he could sing again, and, maybe, someday, he would even let someone hear.

He and Renee weren't exactly friends, they talked like once a year when Allison dragged her girlfriend around, but he did send her a text:

'My music keeps my demons at bay', it said.

'You must have the most beautiful demons then', was her answer, and Neil thought it was ridiculous, but he liked it anyway and kept it in his mind.

On the next day, Allison showed up out of nowhere to help him buy a piano.

Fortunately for Neil, Matt and Dan were too busy with the Exy team that Dan was coaching and couldn't help with the move, Ally was too busy with her clothing brand in New York so she couldn't show up to complain about the furniture — or the absence of it 

But, most importantly, Neil could fall into old habits without anyone scolding at him for it.

Every time he found a new house, Neil checked the windows and doors, he was aware of every exit or entrance and every fire escape of any building, this one wouldn't be different.

When Neil finished inspecting his flat, he decided to visit the roof.

It was cold as fuck outside, there was no soul crazy enough to go outside with this weather, and that meant no one would see him while he made a mental map with any possible escape route from the roof.

So he put on his coat and boots; it was a beautiful and really freezing weekend, everyone in the building was probably in their flats under layers of clothing and covers, watching something, talking to family, no one would hear this weird boy singing in the corridor, right?

It wasn't a premeditated decision, he just felt the words getting out of his lips and let his voice flow as he climbed the stairs to the roof.

* * *


	2. you cover your wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew meets Neil and have a heart to heart conversation with his beloved brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I almost gave up on this fic entirely, this chapter was rotting on my google docs for months because I thought it was awful and I decided to reread today and.. it's not that bad, so I decided to just go ahead and update this fic.  
> Trigger Warning: PTSD, Bipolar Disorder, Depressed Episode, Suicide Thoughts, Panick Atacks, Past Abuse and Violence (mentioned), mentions of blood, if you see something else that I forgot to warn please tell me.
> 
> Just recalling: I've based Andrew's bipolar disorder on a roommate I had and how she reacted to her episodes, about anxiety and depression, I'm using my experiences as a guide, that doesn't mean I wrote it perfectly or anything so if it's wrong or offend or hurt someone in any way please tell me and I'll delete it immediately.
> 
> english isn't my first language, feel free to point out any mistakes or ignore them  
> it's unbetaed so there's probably some typos and I edited it but I'm a perfectionist so at some point I have to just drop it here or i'll never write anything again because nothing is good enough.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the reading anyway

At first, Andrew just thought the voice was beautiful and it was something nice to hear for the last time, but then he realized the voice was coming to the roof and that annoyed him to no end.

Andrew didn't move away from the edge when the stranger opened the door, didn't even acknowledge his presence, he just expected that, whoever it was, would realize it was too cold to stay and go away.

But the stranger just approached the edge beside him, without smiling or complaining about the cold.

"Do you mind having company?"

Andrew shrugged, not in the mood to talk, but he couldn't avoid looking at the boy next to him; he wore a black coat over an orange sweatshirt — bad taste, in Andrew's humble opinion — had auburn hair and unreal blue eyes. And he was beautiful, Andrew was sane enough to see it, just like he could see the scars on his face and the way his eyes scanned the place as if he was studying an escape route — it was interesting how he seemed so calm and so vigilant at the same time.

“It’s not pleasant to the eyes,” Andrew startled when the guy started talking, he had a trace of a British accent, “everyone looks at it like this at first, don’t worry, I know it’s hideous. You get used to it.”

He was talking about his scars, of course, but Andrew said nothing — mostly because he didn’t think it was hideous at all, also Andrew had his own scars, he was no one to judge.

And if that face was as familiar as Andrew thought it was, there was no reason to think his scars were anything less than a beautiful reminder of what he was able to survive, of what he could endure, of the hell he could see and come back from.

“I'm Neil Josten, flat 22.”

“Andrew Minyard, 31,” Andrew said, wondering if this guy would go away and leave him alone.

“Andrew Joseph Minyard, used to play was a goalie for the Palmetto Foxes, once defended 150 shot out of 163 on a game against the Edgar Allan Ravens, for some reason became a photographer when graduated, sometimes antagonize publicly with Kevin Day,” Andrew rolled his eyes, of course, that was all he needed right now, a stupid neighbor who was as obsessed with Exy as Kevin — a mini-Kevin as if one wasn’t enough to give Andrew a migraine.

“I’ll push out of this roof if you don’t stop right now,” was all Andrew said, because it generally worked, because generally people left him alone after threats.

The guy didn’t take the hint, and smiled brightly.

“Sure. Listen,I don't usually ask for this kind of thing, but I'm having trouble with the heater here, could you help me, please?”

“I don’t like this word, don’t use it,” Andrew sighed when Neil just frowned at him, “The last one, don’t use it around me again.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll help you, but don't make a habit of it.”

Neil smiled and walked away from the edge, stopping at the door as if waiting for Andrew — the blond tried not to think about how he had a pretty smile; pretty boys were trouble, pretty  _ and  _ unknown boys were dangerous.

His flat wasn't that different from Andrew's, but where Andrew's walls were elegantly painted and decorated with fancy paintings, Neil's had a wallpaper probably chosen without much attention, he had almost none furniture, and the only picture on the wall was a group photo where everyone was wearing orange — Andrew recognized some faces, Dan and Matt were part of the Foxes and Allison was Renee’s girlfriend, so Neil probably went to PSU too and knew the same people Andrew knew, but they never met. Interesting.

The only part of the house that Neil seemed to have had any attention to was where the piano lay in the living room, it wasn't a brand new one, but neither was it old, it was nicely preserved and, for someone who didn't bother to buy a TV, Neil seemed to have spent a lot of time looking for a quality piano.

They didn’t talk much, Andrew went straight to the heater, all the heaters in the building were old and had problems all the time, so it wasn't the first time that Andrew needed to fix one.

Unlike the first impression Andrew had of Neil on the roof, the boy didn't talk much, he allowed the blond to work in silence, just interrupting him to ask which tea from his huge box all dedicated to the various types of tea — proving himself more and more British, — Andrew preferred, so after fixing the heater, the two of them drink their tea in silence, leaving the cold outside.

"I'd like to offer something to eat, but I haven't done any groceries shopping yet," Neil said when Andrew finished explaining what he should do if he noticed problems with the heater again.

"And what are you planning for dinner tonight, tea bags?" Andrew asked without knowing why, maybe because, within that period they spent together, Neil didn't ask any intrusive question, he didn't question what he was doing on the roof at risk of slipping or freezing to death, even if any other person in that situation would be dying to ask.

Neil just laughed as if Andrew was a hilarious man, which surprised him, nobody laughed at his jokes.

"I was going to order something, but yeah your idea is way better than mine."

Andrew huffed.

"Come to my place later, I was going to order too."

Neil smiled.

"Thank you, Andrew, but you don't have to."

"Then have fun with your tea bags,” Andrew shrugged, pretending that that was a thing he did normally, pretending he wasn’t inviting that beautiful stranger with an amazing voice to his apartment, “I'll order pizza.

"Well, I guess I can go if it's not going to bother you.”

"It will, but I need someone to do the dishes after dinner."

And, again, Neil laughed, easily, naturally.

"We have a deal, I'll see you later."

Andrew wasn't sure why he had invited him to his house, but there was something about him, something as broken as Andrew, and maybe it was that recognition in his eyes that drove him to it. After all, one time wouldn't hurt.

Before going to the roof, Andrew had left the window open so his cat could leave if he needed, and a bowl full of food for him to survive for a while until someone opened his apartment, but that ungrateful son of a bitch preferred to eat the whole bowl in the short time Andrew was away and scratch the sofa meowing until someone came to feed him more.

"For the last time," warned Andrew leaning down to pick up the cat, "you're fat and one day I'm gonna let you starve until you learn how to take care of yourself."

The cat answered with a scratch on his hand, Andrew refilled the bowl.

That stupid cat would die without him around.

Andrew checked the bathroom cabinet, sighing that the medicine had not magically appeared there, and turned on his cell phone, only to see several messages and missed calls from Aaron.

They saw each other at Nicky's obligatory Thanksgiving dinner in Germany, but other than that they just exchanged messages to check that they were okay or to remember their birthday. If Aaron needed to speak to Andrew so urgently, something was wrong.

He was still trying to read all the various messages — which explained nothing — when Aaron called again.

“Finally,” Aaron said exasperated, “are you home? I’ve been calling you for ages?”

“Why? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“Are you coming now? I have a guest.”

“You? But you don’t have friends,” Aaron said, always the asshole.

“If you’re going to invade my property without invitation, at least bring me a pizza.”

“Dude, I’m a med student, I’m fucking broke,” his evil twin complained.

“If you show up here with empty hands I’ll call the police,” well, maybe Aaron wasn’t the only asshole.

“Fuck you! Fine, I’ll be there soon.”

Andrew stared at his phone for a moment, wondering when Aaron became such a radiant person who appears out of nowhere without asking first.

Not having much to do, considering that Aaron used his rare brother privilege to take his power of decision over his own house, Andrew decided to take a long and relaxing bath — at least he would have an excuse to leave Aaron waiting at the door.

Andrew was already dressed and deciding which of his sweaters was warmer and more comfortable when someone knocked on the door, Aaron entered without saying hello as soon as Andrew answered him, bringing with him a suitcase so big that made him wonder if his brother intended to move in.

"Katelyn finally got tired of your face and put you out of the house?" Andrew asked him, eating ice cream straight from the pot.

"No, but she decided to spend some time with her mother and here I am," Aaron grimaced, "it's cold and you're going to die from diabetes.

"That's what I hope."

"Aren't you taking pictures anymore?" Aaron asked because he couldn't help himself.

Andrew was a photographer, so, most of the time, his place was full of photos all over the place, his camera used to be at hand and his room stuffed with lights and sketches of ideas; but on bad days all that Andrew could do was sulk and hate everything he did, so his best option was to hide everything in an empty room until the bad part was over and he got back on track.

It was a great plan since he didn't have to face his own failure every day, but a terrible plan because Aaron knew him well enough to know why he didn't have a single photo equipment in place at the moment.

Even before Andrew tried to answer, Aaron left his suitcase aside and went to the bathroom, returning to his room with empty flasks in hand.

"You said you wouldn't let the medicine run out."

"I forgot to buy it."

"Don't try to lie to me, not to me. Everybody knows that you don't forget anything".

"This shit makes me drowsy, I can't concentrate," Andrew rolled his eyes.

"Andrew, that's not optional. What would you do if I decided to let my anxiety pills run out?”

"Why do you care? Why are you here? Go back to your life with your cheerleader and leave me alone, I'm perfectly fine without you."

"Stop pushing everyone away, Andrew. I've been trying to reach you for years."

"I gave you an option," Andrew sneered, "you said no."

Aaron scoffed.

"You offered me a deal. I shouldn't have to make a deal to see my brother."

"If you can't accept things for what they are, there's nothing I can do."

"You can't even control your own life, Andrew, stop trying to control everyone else's," Aaron yelled.

"Oh, that's because I'm bipolar? That's low Aaron, even for you," Andrew smiled, his brother raised his hands in an exasperated gesture.

"Why are you like this? You want to take care of everyone but yourself, you want to have control over everyone, but then when things are not your way you get aggressive and mean."

"You don't know shit about me, Aaron. Get off your high horse for once, would you?"

"Well, I may know nothing about you, but I tried to know you. I always did, but you always cut me off, I'm always trying to reach you and you're always sending me away, so when I give up and go ahead with my life you act like I chose to leave you? That's rich, Andrew."

Andrew crossed his arms and did not answer, a conversation with the stranger was enough weight for one day, fighting with Aaron was just too much.

"Is that what you came for?" Andrew asked and Aaron sighed.

"I'm sorry. I know it's all just that part of you trying to push everything and everyone away in bad times."

"You don't know anything, Aaron."

"Okay," Aaron grimaced, "just promise me you'll take your medicine regularly again."

Andrew shrugged.

"Make a deal with me," Aaron asked, "and promise me you'll take your meds again and find a new therapist"

"Oh, Aaron, you told me you no longer had deals to make with me and I agree. You have nothing I want."

Aaron tried to argue again, but a knock on the door interrupted him and he rolled his eyes, opening the door.

Neil’s uneasiness was visible even at distance, even with Aaron closing Andrew’s view from the strange man and his horrific bright orange clothes

"You're not Andrew," Neil said, that made Andrew stop on tracks, his mind was running with one simple question:  _ how? _ Nicky was Andrew and Aaron’s guardian for years and even he couldn’t tell them apart sometimes.

"No shit Sherlock. Who the fuck are you?"

"Someone polite,” was Neil’s snarky retort.

"Let him in, I told you I had a guest," Andrew finally said, already bored with the questioning look on Aaron’s face and his failed attempts of putting one plus one together.

"I'm Neil, I just moved to flat 22. Do you live here?" Neil asked gently, but something seemed...off?

" I’m Aaron, and no, I'm just here for a short stay," Aaron frowned, "how did you know I wasn't Andrew? We're literally twins."

That was a good question, Andrew stared at Neil, raising one eyebrow at Neil’s direction, Neil frowned in discomfort, pulling the sleeves of his oversized hoodie to hide some of the scars on his hands, and shrugged.

"Last time I saw Andrew he hadn't had snow on his hair," a blatant lie, while working at Neil’s place Andrew was still wet from the snow melting on his hair and clothes, now Aaron looked exactly like Andrew did when left Neil’s flat, but the stupid boy must have some observant skills to read the room and understand that this wasn’t something he was supposed to mention.

Andrew remained silent, not averting his eyes from Neil’s gaze, even when Aaron crossed his arms staring to the both of them, even when Aaron huffed putting the pizza on the table and took a slice, and Neil stay stood, unafraid, glaring back, until Andrew got bored and followed his brother’s steps.

The three of them were a weird group, Neil sat down on a chair, like a normal person, Andrew and Aaron took their places on the kitchen counter because they liked to be tall.

And even though Aaron was a quiet person, at least when compared to Kevin and Nicky, his silence seemed awkward right now.

“So,” Aaron said, probably tired of holding himself back, “Neil, do you have a surname?”

“Josten. I’m Neil Josten,” Neil said arching an eyebrow, he seemed suspicious and amused all at once.

“Alright,  _ Josten _ ,” Aaron emphasized, “What do you do for a living?”

“Nothing right now, I have some savings until I find a new job, though.”

“And do you have a degree?”

“I just started my mathematics PhD,” Neil smiled at the look on Aaron’s face.

“You don’t look like a PhD student,” Aaron mumbled.

Neil frowned, crossing his arms.

“Why?”

“Are you always dressed like a homeless person?” Aaron continued, ignoring his question.

“I like to wear clothes that don’t draw attention, you know? Blend in,” Neil said, suddenly too self conscious — even though Andrew still couldn’t understand the man in front of him, he could see one more little piece taking place on his mental puzzle.

At that affirmation Andrew and Aaron snorted at the same time, Neil pulled his long sleeves again.

"What?" Neil asked with a shaky voice, he seemed a little disturbed.

Aaron just shook his head and Andrew knew very well what he was thinking.

"You couldn't blend in even if you tried," Andrew said and Neil cocked his head.

"Wanna bet?" he said, and, dammit, Neil was smiling again, and what a fucking smile he had.

"Have you seen your reflection lately?" Aaron asked, clearly trying to prove a point, clearly not noticing how disturbed Neil looked.

"I'm trying to avoid it, but yes," Neil answered, "I know my scars, Aaron."

"I wish I was talking about the scars," Aaron muttered, and that was weird, the Aaron that Andrew knew wouldn't see beauty in a man even if said man just won a 'prettiest person in the world' award.

So, before Aaron could go back to his mission to make Neil a miserable and disturbed man right in Andrew's kitchen, Andrew faced his brother.

"What do you mean by that?" Andrew asked directly, because that was how he did things.

Aaron hesitated, opening his mouth once or twice to say something but no word came out, Andrew knew his brother well enough to understand that there was much more in what he said than he intended to say, and Aaron knew him well enough to understand that he was not fooling anyone.

"I mean, you don't see a redhead with blue eyes and scars everywhere, you know?" 

"Yeah, but you said that wasn't about my scars, so..." Neil gestured vaguely, all discomfort left his body and he seemed pretty amused by how the game changed out of nowhere, and even though he barely knew Aaron, the man seemed way too happy about the prospect of mocking him.

In that exact moment Andrew realized Neil was an asshole, and that was the moment he realized that Neil might be a problem — or at least a threat to the calm facade Andrew was trying to build to himself.

Andrew glared at his twin.

"Yeah, Aaron, you said it wasn't about the scars," Andrew said, because, again, he was an asshole too.

"If we're going to have this conversation, your new buddy should go," Aaron said, basically spitting the word 'buddy', Neil stared at him unaffected.

"Neil can stay," Andrew said, because he could, and because he was getting angry.

"This is a private matter. This is family."

"And Neil is staying," Andrew replied, "Care to explain? Does it have something to do with the fact that you're here and not with your cheerleader?"

Aaron sighed.

"Katelyn is pregnant, we broke up like months ago and I'm having a sexuality crisis," Aaron spluttered, closing his hands in trembling fists.

Neil chewed the last piece of his slice of pizza with eyes wide open, then got up silently.

"I think I should go," the redhead said, and Andrew nodded.

"Yeah, you should," Andrew answered without looking at him, his eyes fixed on his stupid brother who was even paler than usual.

Aaron stayed silent, shaking his leg like he always did when anxious, until Neil, with a shy goodbye, left the apartment, Andrew’s eyes were still on his brother, waiting.

The door closed, Aaron inhaled a deep breath.

“I know what you’re thinking –” Aaron started, Andrew didn’t want to hear that bullshit.

“Oh, do you? Because right now I’m wondering if you had any idea of how much shit you put Nicky and I through just because you couldn’t hide your problem with other people's sexuality.”

“I admit it, I was a homophobic dickhead with Nicky most of our lives, so you must understand how hard things are to me right now, I know how much pain I’ve had put him through, and, believe me, I’ll make it up to him at some point,” Aaron said rapidly, “but I’ve never had a problem with you being gay, Andrew.”

“You’re lucky I don’t give a shit about this stuff, but I saw your glare every time I was with someone. I’m not a idiot, Aaron.”

“I’ve never had a problem with your sexuality, Andrew, I was scared for you because of Drake,” Aaron covered his face, “I know you don’t do relationships and I didn’t trust those guys you used to hookup with, I was scared any of them could hurt you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Andrew retorted, his brother scoffed.

“You can, but you never do. The truth is that you have everyone’s back, except yours, and I can’t deal with that, Andrew. If you’re fine with being hurt again, if you can’t care less about your own safety, that’s on you, but I can’t see my brother being hurt again and live with the fact that I did nothing to stop it,” Aaron was breathing heavily, he growled in frustration.

“You did something to stop it the last time,” Andrew didn’t know what to say, Aaron seemed someone new to him, a stranger in his kitchen.

“And I’ll never regret it, but I was too late again. I’m always too late, Andrew,” Aaron closed his eyes, “Sometimes I wish I’ve found you sooner, I wish I could’ve made that call when we were still kids, before they’ve had time to hurt you, before they broke you, and I’m sorry if I wasn’t easy during college but any men around you was a threat and I was reacting badly out of fear.”

Andrew sighed, it was too much for one day, it was too much for a fucking lifetime.

“The guest room is yours,” Andrew said.

“That’s all you have to say?” Aaron asked nervously.

“For now, yes, that’s all I have to say,” he finished, slamming the door as he got into his room.

Sleeping was hard when there was people around, even if the person in question was his brother who couldn’t stay still even sleeping, so Andrew’s mind was running wild — of course his trouble to sleep had nothing to do with the fact that, apparently, his brother wasn’t as straight as he made everyone think, or the fact that he would be a uncle, no it had nothing to do with it.

It was around 2 AM when he heard the piano, and Andrew generally would be annoyed by someone playing a fucking piano this late, he wanted to knock at every door in the building until they stopped this fucking song, but it was such a beautiful song, so lonely, so comforting.

Andrew’s rage disappeared, he was still annoyed and frustrated, but his eyelids were getting heavy, Andrew could feel the quiet darkness of sleep arriving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are more then appreciated, again idk where I'm going with it, I just have a general idea and the only thing I can promise is a happy ending.  
> you can talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dearghostqueen) if you want, and I hope I can update it again soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know where I'm going with it but I have so much written, please tell me if it's worth going on and play along until it gets somewhere.  
> Kudos and comments are more than appreciated because I'm in a real bad place right now and helps me a fucking lot.  
> Hope you guys enjoyed, you can talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dearghostqueen) , this fic was inspired by the song [Phoenix](https://open.spotify.com/track/6zAiRKvAMlXHxEtyO4yxIO?si=lzMUan_vRaCvYP4zaOx2TQ) and I'll probably just turn this into a series of unrelated stories based on random music  
> Just in case someone's wondering, I do say "really" a lot  
> Well, please tell what you think.


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